


Unchanged

by kerrykins



Series: "Unchanged" Universe [2]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/F, Femslash, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Older Woman/Younger Woman, dwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-07-29 10:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16262606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerrykins/pseuds/kerrykins
Summary: Andy returns to Runway after a three month interlude at the New York Mirror.





	1. Return

_ “There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged.” -Nelson Mandela _

 

Three Months After Paris

 

Andy couldn’t believe she was back at Runway. And willingly, at that. All it took was an excited phone call from Emily at 3 AM. 

 

“You won’t believe what just happened,” the woman on the other end of the phone announced gleefully. Andy, who had just woken up, was taken aback. “What?” She couldn’t contain her yawn and glanced at a clock on the wall. There was an exasperated huff on the other end, which she guessed was accompanied by an eyeroll as well. “That pathetic, snivelling girl that took your position has just been fired. Could you be any slower on the uptake?” Andy frowned confusedly. “That’s... good?”

 

“Of course it is! You know what this means? Miranda will be needing a second assistant again.” 

 

Andy sat up straight in her bed, realisation dawning on her. Her heart skipped a beat. 

 

“You’re saying I should come back to Runway.” That wasn’t a question. She ran a hand through her chestnut brown hair, her eyes widening. “I-I don’t know what to say,” she remarked, only speaking the truth. 

 

While she enjoyed her comfortable new job at the New York Mirror, it had been dull, to say the least. She was unaccustomed to sitting at her computer for hours writing, and getting home before midnight. The routine of early morning dashes for Miranda’s coffee and late nights spent driving to her townhouse had become so regular. 

 

As much as it pained her to admit it, life without Runway was dull.

 

“Would Miranda let me come back, though?” She asked slowly. Even if she wanted to return, Andy wasn’t sure whether or not the formidable editor remembered who the hell she was. 

 

“Bloody hell, she’s constantly talking about you. Miranda’s called me Andrea more times than I care to count, and fired the new girl because she whined she was sick of constantly being compared to you.” 

 

Andy couldn’t help but blush a bit at these words. 

 

“Without you here, she has been absolutely insufferable. If you feel compelled to decline the offer, that’s fine. Just know that I’ll delete your number from my contacts and have no choice but to gouge my own eyes out.” Emily laughed dryly. 

 

Andy pondered this, drumming her fingers on her thigh. “I need time to think about it,” she said petulantly.

 

“No. I expect to see you in the Elias-Clarke building tomorrow,” she said with finality. “Now goodbye.” Emily promptly hung up on her, leaving Andy with an incredulous look on her face as she stared blankly at a wall.

 

Back to Runway, the Book, coffee runs. 

 

Back to her. Miranda. 

  
  


Andy showed up at the Elias-Clark building on time, which meant she was there fifteen minutes before her appointment with Emily. It had been nearly a year since she walked in, onion bagel and atrocious briefcase in hand. Certainly felt longer than that.

 

Up the elevator she went, walking down the hall, opening the glass doors. Andy found solace in its familiarity.

 

“Andrea!” Andy was greeted by Emily, who ran at the speed of light towards her in stiletto heels. The brunette woman instinctively took a step back. 

 

“Bloody hell, I’m glad you actually came. We need to get your to Miranda’s office immediately.” She said that last part matter-of-factly, like Andy was some important folder or Polaroid from a photoshoot.

 

“Nice to see you too, Emily.” Andy couldn’t help but grin. The auburn-haired woman grabbed her by the arm and practically dragged her to Miranda’s office, her hold firm and a bit painful. 

 

But Andy was too busy processing the fact that Emily was happy to see her. Almost a year ago she had gone to Paris with Miranda, leaving her with a broken leg. Guess she wasn’t the kind to hold grudges.

 

Or maybe she just couldn’t put up with Miranda’s bullshit anymore and was willing to form a temporary alliance.

 

Either way, Andy enjoyed it.

 

Whatever bubbly feelings she had earlier pretty much disappeared when she entered the Devil’s Den. 

 

It hadn’t changed at all, and neither had the woman sitting at the desk apparently. 

 

She was on the phone, clearly in the middle of some kind of verbal assault on a poor employee.

 

“Jocelyn, how many times must I repeat myself? No, the Manhattan shoot is no longer happening. Seems as though you would benefit greatly from learning to listen, or perhaps you could grow a few brain cells. You didn’t hear me when I said I didn’t want florals for spring, and you were evidently not listening when I-”

 

Miranda’s breath hitched when she looked up from the spread in front of her. Andy’s blood chilled. The snow-haired woman didn’t looked particularly pleased to see her ex-employee.

 

“That’s all,” she said hastily into the phone, hanging up. The pair had Miranda’s undivided attention now. Andy noticed Emily swallow nervously.

 

“Why, hello Andrea.” Miranda rested her face in her hands, blue eyes calculating. “What a lovely surprise.” The coldness of her voice spoke otherwise. 

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“Right, well I have to get back to the phones, Demarchelier should be calling now,” Emily said quickly, nearly running back to her desk.

 

Andy gave her a pleading look before the auburn-haired assistant took her leave, but was ignored.

 

“I must say, I was quite disappointed when you walked out on me,” her voice level now, and Andy couldn’t help but shiver as Miranda’s eyes trailed up and down her.

 

No one walked out on Miranda. Well, except her three ex-husbands, she thought. But Andy held her tongue.

 

“But I’m even more disappointed that you’re back. Whatever happened to living your wide-eyed fantasy of becoming a journalist?”

 

“Maybe later,” Andy said decisively. “It wasn’t as interesting as I had hoped it would be.”

 

The editor’s eyes shone with genuine amusement. “How intriguing,” she said wryly.

 

“Uh, so am I hired?” Andy asked awkwardly, not wanting to sound like she was begging. She shifted from one foot to the other, not quite knowing what to do with herself.

 

Miranda let out an almost defeated sigh, rolling her eyes. “Get me coffee. Make sure it’s scalding. That’s all.” She redirected her focus and deadly gaze to the mess of papers in front of her. 

 

Andy couldn’t help but grin like an idiot as she raced out of the building. It was nice to be back.


	2. Vaguely Apologetic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda has something to say to Andy.

Miranda frowned, a crease forming between her eyebrows. With a sigh, she removed her reading glasses and put a hand to her forehead. 

 

“Andrea,” she called, her voice impossibly soft. 

 

It would have melted Andy if she wasn’t so tired. She slowly made her way into the office and found Miranda sitting on her desk, colourful papers and fabric samples skewed everywhere. 

 

The woman pursed her lips. Andy smiled weakly and managed a “Hi.” 

 

Miranda’s ice blue eyes wandered up and down her, and then she scoffed.

 

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? We have important matters to discuss.” 

 

Andy shifted nervously, fidgeting with her hands a bit. “Okay.” 

 

The older woman opened the Book and starting flipping through it. “The layout for this page is hideous, tell Mark hat the art department must come up with something that won’t blind our readers. Colours are dreadful, and that font is tacky.” 

 

Andy frantically scrawled this on her notepad and nodded silently. 

 

“Cancel my lunch with James tomorrow, and pick up the photoshoots for that Tory Burch collection. I expect to have them on my desk by 3:15 sharp. Call Roy and make sure he comes to pick me up from the party that the mayor is holding before midnight.” 

 

There was silence. Andy looked up at Miranda expectantly, waiting for “That’s all.”

 

Instead, she slowly licked her lips and stared blankly at the ground. 

 

Andy, whose heart rate had increased exponentially, asked hesitantly, “Is there uh, anything else I can do for you?” 

 

Miranda’s cold eyes met hers, and softened, if only marginally. “Yes.”

 

This reply terrified Andy, but she knew better than to ask Miranda to elaborate. So she waited. 

 

After a couple minutes, the woman finally spoke. “I- was quite surprised when I learnt that you had chosen me over a man you loved.” Her voice was soft, and sounded unsure.

 

Andy let out a shaky breath. Did she mean Christian or Nate? 

 

“But the fact that you did it again, it just doesn’t bode well with me.” 

 

Miranda hadn’t broken eye contact with her, but she had an unreadable expression on her face. Where was this going? 

 

“I’m sorry,” she said faintly. 

 

Andy was frozen. What exactly was happening?

 

“Many of my relationships have fallen to pieces because I prioritised work over love. I made you feel as though you had to throw away your entire life to meet my whims. That was foolish of me to do, as I of all people should be aware of how important time with the people you care about is.” 

 

Her voice wobbled a bit. 

 

Andy was so shocked that she couldn’t move, or think of anything to say in return. It didn’t feel real. 

 

Miranda was looking at her with quiet intensity, her head tilted to one side. 

 

Andy cleared her throat. “I-It’s not your fault at all, Miranda. I think part of me thought that I needed to do my job, but another part of me... I think I enjoy helping you. Caring for you.” She bit her lip.

 

The older woman’s eyes glinted with something that resembled gratitude, and maybe a bit of relief. 

 

However her voice was even when she said, “Right. Well, that’s all.” 

 

She resumed her work again, tracing a finger across the Book as she read. 

 

Andy took this as her cue to leave, despite the fact she had many other things she wanted to talk about. 

 

But knowing Miranda, she was probably not going to let Andy bring it up again. Oh well.


	3. A Quiet Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy spends some time with Miranda late at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhh warning for Sexy Rumpus, if you are uncomfy feel free to skip this chapter, there's nothing plot-relevant here!!

When Andy came into work the next day, Miranda acted as though they never had that conversation. But honestly what did she expect?

 

As the brunette assistant returned back to the dimly lit office at 11 PM carrying Miranda’s late-night coffee order, she couldn’t help but wonder why the Book had not arrived yet.

 

Usually the design department had it here by 10. Maybe they were making some last minute changes before it came under the scrutiny of their formidable editor.

 

Andy approached Miranda’s office warily. The older woman seemed to be more surly during the later hours of the day and was prone to quick flashes of anger.

 

As she stepped in, Miranda stiffened, hearing her approach.

 

“Close the door,” Miranda ordered hoarsely, her back turned to Andy.

 

She obliged, even though she didn’t know why she wanted her to do that. Though she was slightly puzzled, Andy didn’t think much of it.

 

As Andy set down Miranda’s decaf coffee on the desk, the white-haired woman whirled around in her chair to face her.

 

Andy inhaled sharply. Usually Miranda didn’t even give her a glance in her direction when she walked into her office.

 

She frantically tried to think of things she might have forgotten, or things Miranda would expect her to anticipate.

 

Nothing came to mind.

 

Miranda’s stormy blue eyes locked onto hers, a pensive look on her face, a sudden flicker of indecision.

 

She made a low humming noise in her throat, pressing a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “Come closer,” she said finally.

 

Andy tried very hard to contain her distress as she took a miniscule step forward.

 

Rolling her eyes, Miranda remarked bluntly, “Andrea, what part of ‘come closer’ do you not understand?”

 

Andy opened her mouth to respond, to apologise, her thoughts incoherent.

 

The mischievous glimmer in the woman’s eyes made her stomach twist in annoyance. What the hell did she want now?

 

Andy’s hands were grasping the sides of the desk, and she leaned over until her face was nearly touching Miranda’s just to piss her off.

 

She could smell her perfume, light and floral, and felt warmth coming off her cheeks.

 

The older woman’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she didn’t seem particularly angry.

 

Upon closer inspection, she realised that Miranda’s weren’t ice blue, instead they had hints of emerald green and grey.

 

Well, since she asked for closeness, I’ll give her that, she thought triumphantly. If Andy got in trouble for following her boss’ orders perfectly, then-

 

Miranda leaned in, her soft lips locking against Andy’s.

 

Oh my god.

 

Every part of Andy screamed at her to pull away, to run out of the office, the Elias-Clark building, out of the country.

 

But instead she cupped Miranda’s jaw in her hand as she kissed her back, her mouth yielding.

 

Andy climbed onto the desk, not surfacing for air as she passionately peppered small kisses on Miranda’s neck, who made a strangled noise.

 

Miranda was on the desk now as well, and had Andy pinned down as she began murmuring into her ear, hand roaming over Andy’s neck, breasts, waist.

 

Andy felt white feathery hair tickling her cheek and blushed.

 

“You haven’t the slightest idea what it’s been like since you left.” Her voice was husky and low, and as she playfully nipped Andy’s ear, the assistant let out a small squeak.

 

“I-I missed you too,” Andy stammered, her heart racing about a hundred beats a second.

 

Miranda’s lips quirked upwards as she pressed herself into Andy, closing the space between then, her hand posessively placed on the woman’s waist.

 

She was smirking now as she slowly ran one finger down between Andy’s legs.

 

The brown-haired woman shivered. “More,” she breathed hungrily, barely audible. Miranda ran her tongue over her lips, her eyes burning with excitement. “Now darling, let’s not be hasty,” she purred. Andy whimpered.

 

Miranda never broke eye contact with her as she deliberately took her time undressing her, belt, pants, shirt, and silk panties tossed to the floor after what seemed like an eternity.

 

Andy had to wait, the knot in her stomach growing tighter with frustration.

 

Miranda trailed her fingers over Andy again, even gentler this time so that she could barely feel her.

 

Fuck, she wouldn’t stop teasing her, the assistant thought helplessly.

 

“By all means, move at a glacial pace,” Andy said grandly, rolling her eyes. She didn’t have the effect she wanted to have on Miranda as she was grinning like an idiot.

 

The older woman, who was brushing against her ever so lightly, gave a small scoff and drove two fingers up Andy, who shrieked.

 

“I wanted to savour this moment, but you’ve gone and ruined it,” Miranda remarked cooly as she slipped her fingers in and out of Andy rhythmically, who let out a quiet moan.

 

The white haired woman gave her a look of mock displeasure. “If we’re doing it your way, you’re going to have to be just a tad louder for me.”

 

Her fingers curled inside of Andy.

 

“A-ah,” she choked.

 

Miranda sniffed. “An improvement, but.” Miranda cut herself off, leaning down and running her rough tongue over Andy. The assistant’s face flushed, her fingers digging into the desk.

 

“Don’t stop,” she groaned. Andy could feel Miranda roaming inside her, firmly gripping her thigh as she travelled deeper in.

 

Andy tossed her head back, her senses overridden with euphoria, Miranda was running her tongue across her walls. God, a couple more minutes of this, and she’d come. Come all over Miranda’s-

 

She gasped as she came, all the tension in her body released as she felt wetness between her legs. Miranda began lapping it up, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

 

When she pulled away, Andy realised that Miranda was still fully clothed while she was wearing nothing but a black lace bra.

 

She sat up so that she could give Miranda a tender kiss, and tasted herself on her lips.

 

Andy’s head swam, she couldn’t get enough of the smell of Miranda’s perfume, the softness of her skin.

 

“You’re wonderful, Andrea,” the older woman said softly, running her hand through Andy’s hair. She had an intense look on her face that didn’t seem to match how quietly she spoke.

 

Andy couldn’t help but blush at the praise. “Not as much as you,” she answered, giving her a small smile.


	4. Why Won't You Talk To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the events that transpired between Andy and Miranda that late night in the office, there seems to be some unspoken rift between the two. Andy intends to mend it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say that I'm pleasantly surprised that so many people are supporting this fic!! Initially it was just a one-shot, a small exercise to get myself to write faster without constantly going back and looking for mistakes. Regardless, I appreciate the support, thank you so much! <3
> 
> I enjoy writing small bits like these, and I'll try to post one chapter per day

It was only 6AM, but the elevator dinged, which signalled Miranda’s arrival. 

 

Emily and Andy ran around the office, frantically tidying up the office before she entered.

 

“Goddamnit,” Emily swore under her breath as the editor stormed in, donning her signature sunglasses and the Book tucked under one arm. 

 

Andy kept her eyes glued to the ground. If she looked at the older woman, she’d either blush, laugh, or start crying. Or perhaps some combination of all of them.

 

Anyways, Miranda had been avoiding her for the past three days, issuing orders from the safety of her desk or passing messages to Andy through Emily.

 

“Good morning Miranda,” she said good-naturedly.

 

Unsurprisingly, the snow-haired woman only wordlessly flung her coat and bag at them, her expression neutral.

 

Emily swiftly grabbed the fur coat and hung it, while Andy stowed the bag away on the carpeted floor of the closet.

 

“Where is my coffee?” Miranda barked from her office. The auburn-haired woman gestured wildly to Andy. “Go,” she mouthed. 

 

Sighing, Andy made her way to the office, Starbucks in hand. When she entered, Miranda’s face hardened, but said nothing as she snatched the drink from Andy. 

 

“So,” Andy started, trying to keep her voice low, glancing furtively behind her to ensure Emily wasn’t nearby. “Are we going to talk about it? About us?”

 

Miranda curled her lip. “No,” she snarled with disgust. “And for future reference, there is no us, there never was.” She was looking at Andy as if she was something vile, some inferior creature.

 

If she thought that alone would make Andy fuck off, she was sorely mistaken. God, she was unbelievable. The assistant rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? You’re literally the one who-” 

 

The older woman waved her off. “Just leave.”

 

“It’ll only take five minutes,” Andy pleaded, trying to be diplomatic.

 

“That’s five minutes too long.” Miranda wasn’t looking at Andy anymore, suddenly very interested in the wooden coaster on her desk.

 

Andy sighed. “Fine. One question. Why do you hate me so much? You sure didn’t that night.”

 

“Yes, nearly three days ago. It was getting dreadfully boring, I had to do something to amuse myself.” The editor shrugged nonchalantly, but that didn’t hide the fact that she looked as though she were about to explode.

 

Or kill someone. Probably Andy. Whatever.

 

“What does that mean? You told me that I was-”

 

“I’m going to step in and stop you there. If you bring this up again I’ll simply fire you.” Miranda hissed. 

 

Her face was bone white, and she looked as though she was going to be sick. Andy noticed that she was clenching her coffee, her hands shaking ever so slightly.

 

“You’re terrified,” Andy realised, her dark brown eyes widening. The impressive Miranda Priestly, rigid with fear. What a sight.

 

“No.”

 

“A coward.” The brunette woman’s face broke into a grin. She shouldn’t be so smug with herself, but she was anyways. “You’re scared shitless.”

 

“How dare you?” Miranda said weakly. Andy really was breaking the older woman, she could tell by the broken look that flitted across her face. But she kept going.

 

“I don’t know, more importantly how dare you do that to me and then throw me away like I’m nothing?”

 

“You’re not nothing, I just-” Her voice was a whisper, and there was a look of hurt in her eyes. The editor looked oddly small right now as she tucked a stray wisp of white hair behind her ear.

  
“What? You just what, Miranda?” Andy knew she was yelling now. She didn’t care. “I’m just dying to know why you would do something so messed up.”

 

“I just hate myself, is that response satisfactory enough for you?” The snow-haired woman snapped, glaring Andy. 

 

Even with her melodramatic outburst, she still managed to look like a cornered animal, with her wide eyes and stiff posture. 

 

Like a deer caught in the headlights.

 

Guilt hit Andy like a bullet train.

 

“M-Miranda, shit, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry,” she stumbled over her words, struggling to find the right thing to say. Andy winced. Shit. She had really overstepped this time.

 

“No, you’re not. In fact, you looked rather pleased with yourself a moment ago,” Miranda said brusquely, colour beginning to return to her face.

 

Andy was about to apologise again, but Miranda held up a hand, shutting her eyes. A crease formed between her eyebrows as though she were in pain.

 

“Don’t. If you’re going to interrogate me, I’d rather you ask me questions that weren’t apologetic ramblings.”

 

“Why do you hate yourself?” Andy asked immediately. The notion that this woman hated herself was almost laughable. She had never met someone so sure of herself, who carried an air of ease and confidence. “You’re Miranda fucking Priestly.”

 

“Language,” the editor murmured as she took a sip of her coffee. She looked remarkably more relaxed now, if not slightly disgruntled.

 

Andy couldn’t help but be awestruck at how she managed to get her emotions under control so quickly.

 

“I honestly cannot believe I just said that,” Miranda chuckled bitterly. “Many reasons, Andrea. I should have specified that I’m just a tad displeased with some decisions I’ve made in the past.”

 

“Oh.” Was all Andy could say.

 

“Oh, indeed,” Miranda repeated mockingly, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Like Stephen?” The brunette asked hesitantly. She knew this was a touchy subject and that she was taking a risk. 

 

She’d count her blessings if Miranda didn’t immediately rip her arm off or throw her out the window.

 

Miranda however, looked unfazed. She was staring at Andy, but her eyes were glassy as if she wasn’t really seeing the assistant in front of her. “Are you referring to marrying him or divorcing him?”

 

“Both, I guess.”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“So what does that have to do with you pretending I don’t exist?” Andy tried to her best to sound curious rather than accusatory. It was hard, considering that she hadn’t completely forgiven Miranda yet.

 

The white-haired woman shook her head. “I’ll have to get back to you on that some other time.” 

 

Her face suddenly tensed. It was the same expression Andy had seen when she accidentally came across she and Stephen arguing in their study.

 

Startled, Andy turned around to see Emily standing there, gaping at the two in a mix of horror and shock.

 

“What exactly is going on here?” The auburn-haired woman demanded, crossing her arms across her chest. She narrowed her silver eyes in distrust at the two.

 

Fuck.


	5. Breaking The Cycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy and Miranda have important matters to discuss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally decided to finish this story! This is the last chapter! Thank you for all your support and patience!

“I’m sure you have questions,” Andy started, but Emily cut her off. 

 

“No shit, Sherlock,” she snapped moodily. “I want to know what on earth you-”

 

“That’s quite enough, Emily,” Miranda’s voice was sweet as honey, but she had a murderous look in her intense blue eyes. “How much did you hear?” She took a long sip from her now-cold coffee.

 

The assistant looked perplexed, her silver eyes wide. “Quite enough. What happened three nights ago?” 

 

Andy let out a groan. She had overhead nearly everything, it seemed. Miranda stiffened at her response, and let out a small cough as if she was choking on her drink.

 

“Good grief,” she hissed. The white-haired woman and Andy’s eyes met. What could they possibly say?

 

“Well,” the editor began cooly. “Three nights ago we talked about maintaining a healthy social life while still pursuing your ambitions.”

 

Emily skeptically raised an eyebrow. “Alright.” She wheeled around to face Andy instead. “You. Tell me what happened.” The older woman looked at though she wanted to intervene, but apparently thought better of it. 

 

As much as it pained the couple to admit it, the temperamental redhead was calling the shots in this situation. 

 

“We, uh,” Andy stammered. “I mean, we.” Miranda rolled her eyes heavenwards. “Andrea, must you always babble like some dimwitted fool?”

 

“We spent the night together,” Andy snapped at Emily, her eyes trained on the white-haired woman. “It meant nothing, though.” She heard the redhead make a noise that sounded like a cat coughing up a hairball, and the brunette could feel Miranda glaring at her.

 

“It most certainly did mean something,” Miranda said suddenly, bristling. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Andrea, I did not make such a statement.”

 

“You just said that, though,” Andy pointed out exasperatedly. She pressed a hand to her forehead. God, this woman was giving her a headache. Everything about this was giving her a headache. “I can’t have this conversation with you, right now.”

 

“Then have it with me, because I need some bloody answers,” Emily grumbled. “Do you realise how inappropriate this all is? You’re her assistant, and she’s your boss. You’re half her age, and you’re both women.”

 

“We’re well aware, Emily,” Miranda drawled, rolling her eyes. “This conversation is getting rather lengthy, yet none of us have the answers we so desperately need.”

 

“No kidding.” Andy snarked. “Especially when you keep contradicting yourself.” Miranda slammed her coffee down on her desk, hard. Her assistants couldn’t help but flinch at the noise.

 

“What do you want out of this anyways, Emily?” Andy demanded. “We told you what happened.”

 

“You mean ‘you’ told her what happened,” Miranda muttered under her breath. Andy was tempted to jump out the window at this point. What a fucking disaster. 

 

“I-I think I’ll just leave now,” Emily squeaked. “Maybe you two should speak alone?”

 

“Yes,” Andy agreed.

 

“No.” Was Miranda’s reply.

  
  


As the door clicked shut, there was an intermittable period of silence. 

 

Miranda stared at a painting on the wall inattentively, while Andy pretended to be texting on her phone. She glanced up from her screen when she heard pens clatter to the floor.

 

The white-haired editor said nothing, but as she stood over the mess, her neck was bright red. As she bent down to pick them up, Andy felt her own cheeks grow warm. Goddamnit.

 

Miranda was wearing a form-fitting black dress that was alarmingly short, and with the older woman kneeling, a great deal of her creamy white skin was exposed. 

 

While Andy thought she was a total bitch, she begrudgingly admitted that she was a beautiful woman. Even when picking a bunch of pens off the floor. 

 

Sighing, she knelt down next to Miranda, who gave her a startled look as she deftly cleaned the mess up. Andy was careful not to accidentally brush against Miranda.

 

What she didn’t expect was the editor gripping her shoulder firmly, ice cold fingers resting at the base of her neck.

 

Andy recoiled from her touch, a jolt running through her body. She didn’t veer her neck, afraid the editor might snap it if she made any sudden movements.

 

“Andrea.” Miranda’s voice was uncertain as she withdrew her hand. “I must know something.”

 

“What?” Was it too hard to ask for one moment of normalcy with this woman? God, she’d scared the daylights out of her. Miranda Priestly had a reputation to uphold about her unpredictability, but nearly killing Andy seemed a bit too far.

 

“Do you hate me?”

 

Andy’s jaw dropped in shock. “What?”

 

“I won’t repeat myself, Andrea,” Miranda rolled her eyes. Curious blue eyes peered at her.

 

Andy wasn’t sure how to respond. Miranda had ruined her relationships with her boyfriend, friends, and parents. She’d treated her like shit, then was kind to her, then made love to her, and finally went back to treating her like nothing. It seemed like a vicious cycle. The assistant bet that this would be the start of “being nice” phase, which would result in her getting fucked, and then fucked over.

 

But Andy knew for a fact that no, she did not hate Miranda Priestly.

 

“No, I don’t,” the brunette answered, looking her square in the eye. “You annoy the hell out of me, Miranda. But I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

 

The editor tilted her head at this, eyes shining with amusement. “Not what I had been anticipating. But I’m glad.”

 

Not what she has anticipated? What the hell did she expect then? “You should know damn well that I don’t,” Andy retorted sharply. 

 

Miranda sniffed disdainfully. “I don’t know anything of the sort. You shouldn’t swear so much, Andrea, it’s unattractive on you. And have you always been so hot headed?”

 

“I think Em might be rubbing off on me,” Andy admitted. “Also, you do know that I love you, right? Unconditionally?” That didn’t even come close to how she felt about Miranda. She absolutely preened over any attention the editor gave her, regardless of it was positive or not.

 

The older woman shifted in her place on the floor, tucking her legs underneath her. Her blue eyes were electric, and looking into them sent chills down Andy’s spine. They were thoughtful. “Why?”

 

“Because you’re beautiful, smart, honest, but that’s not all. Everything you do is so graceful and amazing, from tearing down designers to picking up pens from the ground. I like the way you play with your glasses, and while you have that brilliant star-like quality to you, you shine in ways that are a little quieter.” 

 

Andy paused to catch her breath, and saw that Miranda was staring at her, lips parted in shock. The older woman’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

 

“I’ve seen it. The way you talk to your daughters, your eyes crinkle at the corners and you kiss their foreheads. It’s so gentle, Miranda. And I can never look away, because I know that it’ll be a long time until I’m allowed see you like that again. I love that side of you Miranda, but I also love how forceful and resilient you can be.”

 

“But the thing is, you confuse me because I see both sides, and want both. But you only give me one or the other, and switch between them whenever you want. That’s not fair. And I know I sound like I’m being whiny, but it’s the truth. You can’t treat me with kindness, only to toss me out minutes later.” Andy sighed. God, she should have said something sooner. It was immensely relieving to let it all out. She glanced at the other woman apprehensively. What came next?  _ Say something. Anything. _

 

Miranda was sitting stiffly, but her eyes shone with emotion. “Andrea,” she said finally. The white-haired woman looked helpless. “I’m so sorry. You’re right. I’m unsure as to why I kept putting up a professional divide between us when we crossed that line ages ago. I was wrong to push you away. It won’t happen again.”

 

Andy was taken aback by her words. It wasn’t nearly as lengthy as her own monologue about her unyielding love for Miranda, but said enough. It was enough that Miranda has said anything at all. Admitting that she had made a mistake was groundbreaking.

 

“Come here,” Miranda gestured for Andy to come nearer. Andy obliged, and the older woman threw her arms around her in a tight embrace. She felt the editor tangle her fingers in her hair, and sighed in content.

 

She knew the vicious cycle had finally been broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first story I've ever finished, thank you to those who decided to stick around so long!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! I don't know what this is, maybe a short series? Skskskskks


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